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From an email received 20 July 2023. I have recently been looking at
photos of old Sevenoaks and particularly St Johns Hill and The old
Castle Inn pub.
On being demobbed after the second world was my father William Dilnot
and my mother Alice became the licensees of this nice old Victorian
hostelry. We had lived in The Terrace, Chipstead lane for most of my
life, I was born there in 1936. The widow of the deceased landlord of
The Castle took over our house there and my parents, my brother and I
all moved into the pub.
To say this was a culture shock for my brother and I is an
understatement because the place had not been modernised for many, many
years. The main living accommodation was a semi basement with a huge,
ancient fireplace and very cold stone floors. The whole house was lit by
gas, there was no electricity in the building. The bedrooms were on the
second floor which also boasted a bathroom complete with a bad tempered
gas fired water heater which was in the habit of exploding if one didn't
get the lighting routine in the right order, I was terrified of it.
I think I must have been about nine when we moved in, probably 1945
or 6. It was an ale only house belonging to Westerham Breweries - Long
gone I'm sure.
My next memories are of months of builders, carpenters, electricians
and decorators becoming part of everyday life, my poor mother must have
been so fed up with it in the end having left her pretty little house
surrounded by fields and woods in Chipstead and finding herself in a
building site. My father was in his element though, supervising the
improvements to the building, we had by now abandoned the basement
dwelling for a much nicer new kitchen and living room on the first
floor. The whole premises were now fully wired for electric lighting.
Unfortunately the dreaded water hearer was still present in the bathroom
and I still found some of the bedrooms and dark landings a bit "Spooky"
A full wine and spirits licence had been sought and secured by my father
and our family settled in for several happy years until my father
decided that he needed to move on and start the whole "improvement"
thing again somewhere else. Probably 1950-51.
There were three separate bars consisting of the Public Bar, the
Private Bar and The Saloon. Also what I think was known as The Bottle
and Jug Bar where drinks could be purchased by customers for consumption
in their own homes. The bars were all heated by open fires and very cosy
during the winter months.
Every summer the hop pickers used to arrive at local farms and would
fill the pubs in the evenings and weekends, a lot of singing and dancing
was enjoyed by the pickers and locals. My mother always liked the social
aspect of the pub and loved to join in with the merry making, she was a
real asset to the business and the customers all seemed to love her. She
had a talent for listening people, sympathising with their troubles and
was always interested in anything they had to say. My father used to say
she was his worst customer because she didn't drink!
The other thing I have just recalled is that Dad used to run a beer
tent at the Sevenoaks fetes. One at Easter another on Whit Monday and
then I think one at August Bank Holiday. These occasions were held in a
green space somewhere nearer the town maybe part of the Knole estate and
were very well attended by people from all over the district. Pub
customers took full advantage of the chance to come and drink beer all
day long. I'm sure their wives were not all that amused!
One of the things that always puzzled me about the pub was not
actually the Castle itself but the shop next door which had been long
closed but still had a display of shoes and I seem to remember even old
button boots on the windows. two curious ladies lived there who I always
thought were aunt and niece. They didn't communicate with anybody and
seemed to me to be dressed in a very outdated fashion way. I think the
shop had them name Lassalette Dane above the window but am not really
sure if that is correct.
It is very strange what facts one remembers and on looking at the old
colour postcard on the sight I couldn't help wondering if of the people
in the picture had lived in our pub.
Tina Smith. nee Dilnot. |
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